


floating

by 6woojin



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Artists, Ambiguous/Open Ending, First Meetings, Fluff, Love at First Sight, M/M, Vacation, bambam's a painter and yugyeom's a writer, lapslock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 11:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8576881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/6woojin/pseuds/6woojin
Summary: bambam takes a week-long vacation in hopes of finding peace and inspiration.instead, he finds kim yugyeom.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [yugyeomficfest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/yugyeomficfest) collection. 



> this is the shortest title i've ever had lmao

as soon as bambam steps out of the train station, he never wants to leave.

there’s something about the quiet air, a stillness that he never had in a city of bustling lights and busy sounds, that lulls him in. it’s comfortable and familiar even though he’d never been there before, and it makes bambam wonder why he ever decided to live in a city in the first place.

(he knows it’s because he’d needed a job, knows that he didn’t really have time to think of much else besides school and work and finances, but the town has a sort of sense of carelessness that has bambam questioning why he cares so much about having a stable future anyways.)

he doesn’t even take a cab to his hotel; instead, he figures it’s near enough anyways, so he takes the time to wander around the town. it’s small, quaint, something you’d see in a quirky reality show, and bambam thinks briefly what it would be like to grow up in a town like this.

even before he’d moved to one of the busiest cities of the world, he’d spent most of his life is some sort of urbanized community of highways and alternating lights.

maybe he’d be a different person, he figures, if he grew up in a place like this instead. better, maybe. perhaps a little calmer, a little more put together.

that would be nice.

as bambam makes his way down the streets, he tries to picture what it’d be like in pencil, bright and relaxed in a way that could never suit his own apartment. it’s a compelling image, even moreso when clouds start to crawl across the sky as though they’re saying hello, so bambam finds somewhere to sit and sketch.

it’s not meant to be something finished or clean, but he can’t help it when he ends up spending almost half an hour doing nothing but looking and drawing and feeling _different_.

maybe this is what it’s like to be inspired, bambam considers, to be in a place with a sky that stretches into your head and streets that wind around your feet. it doesn’t quite feel like home, but it feels like it could be, and that’s enough for bambam to linger around the streets a little bit longer, duffle bag in hand, and take it all in. as the clouds reach further across the sky, hands open and yearning against the great expanse of nothingness, he imagines what it’d look like on a canvas, stretched into something pastel and simple across blank fabric.

it’d probably look pretty nice. he should paint it some time.

bambam makes it to the hotel only a few minutes later, passing by building after building without even realizing that he’d arrived; he stops in, if only to check in and put down his bag, but then he’s heading right back out, sketchbook and pencil case in hand.

he finds a spot while waiting for a bus, feet tapping quiet beats into the ground as he throws down colors into his sketchbook. when he gets on the bus, he thinks about the people beside him, in front of him, behind him, and he wonders for a moment what they’re like.

(he sketches a few of them in long, loose strokes to consider later.)

bambam gets off the bus on the last stop, aimless as he finds himself at a riverbed. there’s a sign that says you can’t go in, but he’s tired of standing back and watching and drawing and never quite feeling, so he sags a little in disappointment. maybe he wasn’t meant to feel, wasn’t meant to be able to go out and actually experience something, maybe he wasn’t-

“looking for a place to swim?” someone asks, and bambam spins around on instinct. a boy, maybe around bambam’s age (he’s tall and broad, but his expression is as gentle as the plants by their feet) looks at him, leaning against his bike. bambam nods, slowly, and the boy gestures for bambam to follow before turning around and heading back on the trail.

they only walk so far, really only a quarter of a mile, and then the boy is showing him past shops and buildings, still quiet and mysterious and strangely similar to the town. his bicycle squeaks the entire way, one of the wheels a little deflated as it hits against the metal frame.

bambam keeps his eyes on the sky, too anxious, too awkward, too _everything_ , so he keeps his gaze away from the ground and instead takes his time enjoying the way the clouds darken, warmth seeping out of the world and into his cheeks. what has his life come to, bambam thinks, that he’s in a town completely opposite of his home, following a stranger in hopes of finding a place to swim?

(not to mention the fact that he only wants to swim because he’s tired of just drawing; on any other day, he’d be more than happy to spend hours separate and secluded, picking apart his perspective and putting it into his sketchbook. today, however, seems to be a day of many firsts.)

bambam doesn’t really meet the boy’s eyes, and when the boy turns back to glance occasionally, bambam keeps his eyes trained elsewhere, heart pounding against his ribs. he’s not quite sure why he feels so on edge, so he figures he might as well just blame it on the town and the way the boy smiles a little as he walks through it.

when he glances back around, his gaze catches on the boy’s, and the stranger only smiles politely and watches, eyes vibrant even under the setting sun, and it hits bambam that oh, _this_ is what it’s like to be inspired. (or fall in love. same difference, really.)

“over there.” the boy says softly, and bambam really ought to be a little less off guard at how warm the boy’s voice is in contrast to the coolness of the lake, but he’s surprised all the same. his eyes follow where the stranger points, glancing over to the edge of the docks where wood and metal meets water. the waves slosh up against the pier, gentle and comforting, and it makes bambam feel oddly nostalgic. he’s still not quite sure if he can trust the stranger, but he seems sweet, so he relents and follows the boy over to the docks with a quiet, detached amusement, moving more out of boredom than genuine curiosity. bambam slips into the water, shivering a little as it washes over his skin in cool agitations.

“you’re not coming in?” he questions, and he can’t help the way his heart skips a beat when the stranger blinks at him, awestruck. it makes bambam feel better than he is, more beautiful than he is, and it’s already got him addicted.

“i’m good.” the boy murmurs back, and even with his hair nearly covering his eyes, bambam can make out the flecks of amusement by the edges, something splattered on at the last minute that makes yugyeom look even more like art.

the hues dancing along his jaw are bright and pale as the light flickers across the water, a picture that makes bambam’s hands move on instinct, itching to move forward and _create_. miraculously, he holds still.

“kim yugyeom.” the boy holds out his hand finally, and even with all of his inscrutable features, there’s a flicker of a smile sketched across his face that makes bambam smile back.

“bambam.” he says, taking the boy’s hand. there’s a sort of warmth in the contact that contrasts the water, but he brushes the thought aside. bambam pushes his hair back out of his face, watching the other boy move to sit along the edge of the dock, every movement perfectly in place with the rest of the world. the town suits him, bambam notes, all while wondering how out of place he looks himself.

it doesn’t take long for him to get tired of the push and pull of the water, legs heavy even as he moves to stay afloat, so he figures he’s satiated.

bambam slips out and back onto the pier, albeit a little awkwardly, but yugyeom’s as gentle as ever as he holds out a hand and helps bambam to his feet.

he hands him his jacket too, something big and warm and not suited for bambam’s figure (or his life), but he accepts it with a grateful smile and a bow of his head.

he’s not quite sure where he’s headed, but he makes his way away from the docks and back into the heart of the town, even as yugyeom stays by his side. it’s strange, bambam knows as much, and it’s definitely not safe, but he has 911 on speed dial and he doesn’t have much to lose, anyways.

“care for some ice cream?” yugyeom asks suddenly, and bambam turns to him, unable to stop the bits of confusion that blur at the center of his eyes. it’s an unusual question, abrupt and tied together with something more childlike than he’d allowed himself to be in awhile, but he nods all the same. yugyeom leads the way, familiar with the town and all of its corners and nuances, so bambam trails along, letting the edges of the town smear itself onto his eyelids so that maybe even when he goes back home, he’ll still see it whenever he closes his eyes.

they enter a small store, just as quiet and peaceful as the rest of the town, and although it’s a little run down and the lights flicker every so often, it feels more warm than any place bambam had ever visited before.

he chooses some ice cream, and when yugyeom orders his own, bambam insists on paying.

“for showing me where to swim.” he says, even though it’s not really why. yugyeom seems to get it, smiling softly, and they make their way to one of the little tables by the window to eat.

it’s over the edge of his bowl that bambam meets yugyeom’s eyes again, watching as yugyeom leans back under the hazy light and matches oh so perfectly with the background.

nothing in bambam’s mind had ever expected to meet a strange boy with a broken bike and an appreciation for ice cream, but he supposes that might be a good thing; after all, if he had known that he’d come to this quiet town and meet the most beautiful boy in his life, he might’ve been too terrified to ever visit.

now though, he’s already here and yugyeom’s already by his side, so he figures his fear can suck it.

(yugyeom grins, giggling softly when bambam accidentally drops some of his ice cream, and bambam wonders how he managed to find the world’s most overcast town and the world’s brightest boy all in one day.)

**Author's Note:**

> rip i cant believe i actually finished this,, asdkfsjl thank u so much for reading this and i really hope you liked it !!  
> (this esp goes to the prompter, bc i tried So Hard to fulfill the prompt well aaaaaah)  
> as per usual, kudos, bookmarks, and comments (esp comments !!!) seriously help keep me going, and i feel so lucky to get all of ur support :')))  
> if you guys need anything, have any questions, or just want to talk, feel free to hmu on tumblr @y-ug or twitter @phigyeom !! <33


End file.
